


Including Moderation

by MToddWebster (RembrandtsWife)



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Greek Mythology - Freeform, It's not incest if it's gods, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 00:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16964148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/MToddWebster
Summary: The brother[s] get into the Maenads' supply of unwatered wine in Dionysus' sacred glade, and scantily clad gods with lowered inhibitions do things. Fun things. Unexpected things. Hawt things. But under it all their rivalry simmers.--Prompt frommythology_kink on DW





	Including Moderation

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic of any kind I've written in probably six months. YAY. Mythology_kink is the kink comm I somehow didn't know I wanted. I prayed for help with fic inspiration this morning; I thank Hermes, Mercury, and Antinous for answering my prayers. This is for you, Boys.

Dionysus woke from his slumber when the maenads stopped singing. A bright light filled the sheltered glade, as if the sun had descended below the boughs of the trees. It shone--no, gazed into the god's drowsy eyes from across the breadth of the glade: His older brother, Apollon.

Dionysus sat up and ran both hands through his hair, dislodging wreaths of flowers and ivy. "Son of Zeus and Leto," he said, trying to sound awake.

Apollon nodded, just barely. "Son of Zeus and Semele," he returned.

"What brings you to my humble abode?"

Apollon glanced around. At the piercing glance of his sky-blue eyes, the gathered maenads fled, scattering deeper into the woods. Annoyed, Dionysus felt around for his wine bowl. It was empty.

"I wanted to thank you," Apollon began. "For watching over Delphi while I was away."

"Oh!" Dionysus clambered to his feet, realized he was naked, shrugged, and began looking for the handy spring he remembered from the previous night. "That was no trouble. Happy to oblige. Ah!" He found the spring and bent to fill his empty bowl with the pure water. "It is my pleasure and my honor to help one of the Olympians." There, that sounded suitably formal. He took a long draught of water and felt his head clear.

Apollon strolled closer, hands behind his back. He was not, as far as Dionysus could see, carrying either his lyre or his bow. Was he holding something behind his back?

"You did well," Apollon said. He sounded reluctant. "I found everything in order. My people spoke reverently of you. I am grateful."

Dionysus grinned. "You thought I'd muck it up, didn't you? Make my usual mess, raving women, flesh-eating, snake-handling, and then not even clean it up. Gave you a pleasant surprise, did I?"

Apollon blushed very faintly. "I admit, when Father suggested I ask you to stand in for me, I thought maybe it wasn't the best idea--"

"You thought old Dad was in his dotage, didn't you, favoring the new boy to make his mum happy? You thought I'd do a poor job just to spite you--or did you think I'm just actually incompetent, as a god?" He was face-to-face with Apollon now, whose luster was considerably dimmed. "Well, let me tell you something, son of Leto: I am not incompetent. And I am not rude." He poked Apollon in the chest for emphasis. "I know how to be a good guest and a good host, and when I break the rules of good behavior, I do it deliberately and for a reason." He tapped Phoebus' muscular pecs again, just because.

Apollo ducked his head and took a step back. "Well. Yes. In any case, Father's advice was sound, and you did an excellent job running Delphi for me, and I brought you a gift in thanks." His hands came out from behind his back and he held out an apple.

"An apple," Dionysus said, before he could stop himself.

"Yes." Apollon smiled. "The Hyperboreans make a fermented drink of it that I thought you might not be familiar with. They call it cider. See what you can come up with."

He tossed the apple in the air and Dionysus seized it, intrigued. "I shall!" He almost bit into the fruit--he was suddenly hungry--then remembered his manners. "Well, son of Zeus, perhaps you would sit with me and have some wine? And fruit, cheese, bread."

Apollon washed his hands at the spring as Dionysus cracked open a fresh amphora of wine. The maenads had left plenty of provisions behind, so he was able to lay out respectable offerings for his guest on a tray."

Apollon took a measured sip from his bowl. He frowned. "This wine is unwatered."

"Yes? Have you never drunk it that way?"

"No. It is--"

"Immoderate, yes. I was at Delphi, remember, I saw the carvings on the temple. 'Know thyself.' 'All things in moderation.'" He took a gulp of his wine. "Well, I came up with my own version of those. First, know what you like." He hefted the wine-bowl in illustration. "And second, all things in moderation--including moderation!"

Apollon laughed aloud at that, and took a taste of his unwatered wine worthy of a mortal, or even a maenad. Soon he was telling Dionysus all about his adventures in the far north, amongst the Hyperboreans who lived at the back of the north wind, who dressed in furs and herded large shaggy deer who were impervious to the cold and sang to curious musical instruments, including the drum.

Eventually, several bowls of wine later (no one had been keeping count of how many, certainly not Dionysus), when the bread and cheese had been reduced to crusts and rinds, the gods' conversation trailed off. Dionysus realized he was staring at Apollon's mouth and had been for a while. Apollon's carefully gathered hair was coming down, the gold locks slipping over a bare shoulder round with muscle. Dionysus realized that Apollon… was staring at *his* mouth.

"You know, usually when someone gives me a gift, I do more than just say thank you and put it neatly away." The apple from Hyperborea was sitting in the crook of a nearby tree.

"Oh, really, yes?"

"Usually I thank them… properly." Dionysus licked his lips. 

Apollon stared. "Like…?"

"Like this."

Dionysus seized the kiss as he seized most things in his immortal life, with both hands and parted lips. Apollon's mouth was warm, warmer than expected, redolent of wine and... cinnamon? And something else--

Dionysus' back hit the mossy earth and Apollon was on top of him, his mouth hot and hungry, his hands pressing Dionysus' shoulders into the earth. All right, if that was how he wanted to play… He busied himself loosening Apollon's hair until the golden mass fell down into his face, smelling of--

"Laurel," he gasped, Apollon's lips against his neck. "You smell like laurel."

Apollon growled against his neck, and Dionysus felt teeth. "You smell like… mortal, but not, I don't know--" Apollon *licked* him. "Like wet earth, like spilled semen."

"Patchouli," Dionysus managed, hooking a leg around Apollon's and hitching him closer. "An Indian fragrance derived from a low-growing herb. Ooh!" Apollon's mouth had wandered lower and found a nipple. Dionysus writhed and got fingers on one nipple, teeth in the other one and he had never taken Apollon for a biter.

When he was about to beg for mercy, Apollon sat up, pinning Dionysus beneath his hard thighs and buttocks, his hand curled around Dionysus' rampant phallus. "Ares has wondered what you are, if you are truly a man." He stroked the eager flesh he held, watching Dionysus' face.

"Let him wonder." Dionysus pushed up into Apollon's grip, relishing the unexpected calluses--from the strings of bow and lyre. What delicious strength and roughness was in that hand. 

"Whatever you wish to call yourself, you are very beautiful, son of Semele, and I would like to fuck you."

Dionysus shuddered with delight. "I would like that, too, but first--" He surged up with all his strength and toppled Apollon backwards, diving for his mouth. He kissed Phoebus breathless and then moved his mouth to the god's phallus, as erect as his own and honey-sweet in his mouth.

He broke off his worship only when Apollon tensed and let out a startling high-pitched wail. Then he sat back, waiting. Apollon rolled over and onto him, kissing him again, stroking his phallus and then gliding over his hip to find the entrance to his body.

"Oh, fuck!" Apollon's fingers provoked a stream of expletives in mortal languages; Apollon's phallus, sinking slowly into Dionysus' body, brought a burning golden light that transcended any speech. Dionysus sprawled out, fingers dug into the earth, toes curled, thighs quivering as he arched and sank, arched and sank, while Apollon chanted praise of his beloved's hair, eyes, lips, nipples, arse in perfect hexameters.

Dionysus' orgasm was a joyous fountain springing up from earth to heaven. Around them flowers sprang up, trees galloped from blossom to fruit, the moss and grasses thickened, and the birds began to sing. Apollon's orgasm within him was a long, slow, golden tide, pouring and pouring and pouring, until Dionysus was merely a vessel, the light of Apollon's passion spilling from every orifice, every pore.

They lay joined for a very long time. Then Apollon withdrew, with a few slow, almost hesitant kisses, and began binding up his hair. Dionysus sighed deeply, rose on trembling legs, and took their bowls to the spring, to rinse and fill with water. Apollon drank with a grateful nod. 

"I suppose I should return to Olympus now."

Dionysus scrubbed his hands through his hair, no tidier now than when he awake. "I must find and comfort my maenads."

Apollon rose, looking reproachfully well put together for someone who'd just had epic sex. He held out a hand, as if he might offer a caress, but it turned into a (manly) clasp of wrists. "Be well, son of Zeus and Semele."

"Be well, son of Zeus and Leto." He watched Phoebus walk away and wondered if he ever bottomed.

Apollon turned back at the edge of the glade. "I wonder." He turned back. "If you might be willing to stand in for me at Delphi on a regular basis? Say, annually?" His blue eyes glinted.

Dionysus smiled. "I think that could be arranged, yes."

Apollon also smiled. "I would be grateful."


End file.
